


Up a Tree and a Step to the Left

by MavenAlysse



Category: Hansel and Gretel: Witch Hunters (2013)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Family Secrets, Gen, Major Character Injury, Supernatural Elements, Witch Curses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-03
Updated: 2014-05-07
Packaged: 2018-01-21 19:53:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1562066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MavenAlysse/pseuds/MavenAlysse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU: After the witches attack the town and Gretel heads out to look for Hansel, she and Mina find him up the tree ... though the landmarks are the same, a step to the left can change the destination.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Up a Tree and a Step to the Left  
'Hansel and Gretel: Witch Hunters' AU  
-Maven Alysse

AU at point after the witches attack the town and collect their last child needed. Change up of Mina finding Hansel in the tree and Gretel's confrontation with the Sheriff and his men.

For the 'sugar sickness' I used the symptoms for Hypoglycemia of Diabetes and got the information from the following book:

Griffith, H. Winter Ph.D. Complete Guide to Symptoms, Illness, & Surgery. p.338. The BodyPress/Perigee Books. The Putnam Publishing Group, New York. 1989. 

Thanks to Keely and Aislinn for being awesome beta readers and idea bouncers. You're the best, ladies!

Started: 4/27/2013  
Completed: 5/3/2014

888  
888

Up a Tree and a Step to the Left  
Hansel and Gretel: Witch Hunters AU  
-Maven Alysse

 

After smacking Benjamin's hand away and giving him a dirty look, Gretel sat up on the bed, feet dangling over the edge. “Oh, God,” she muttered, rubbing at her aching head while automatically scanning the room for exits and threats. Lips pressed in a tight line, she remembered the events of the night before. The Witch they were dealing with was a Grand High Witch. One particularly powerful and very intelligent.

As well as strong. Gretel winced at the feel of bruises upon her throat.

The creature had seemed too pleased to see her; going on about a final ingredient. Gretel shuddered and tried to pull herself together.

She'd blacked out after being tossed out the window; she needed information and it looked like Ben would have to be the one to give it to her. She turned her gaze upon him, internally smirking at his nervous swallow. Ben wasn't the first young man to become smitten with her as both a woman and a witch hunter, and he wouldn't be the last. As long as he conducted himself as a gentleman, well, she wouldn't feel obligated to show him the error of his ways in a painful manner. “What happened?”

Ben's gaze turned solemn. “The witches attacked the town last night. The one you caught, the Horned Witch? She escaped, and the Sheriff's office got partially blown up somehow. The Deputy Mayor died.”

Gretel felt her heart give a pang of sorrow. The man had been kind and determined, though realistic of his abilities. He was one man she would not have hesitated to call a friend. Her resolve hardened even further; the witches would die.

“Another child got taken – Mary.” Ben's hands clenched as he stared out the window. “The witches used a spell to make her older brother, Kevin, shoot their mother. Then the witch hit Kevin with some sort of spell. They don't know if he'll survive.” A heavy pause hung between them before Ben continued. “There were rumors of a Troll lurking about. I found you lying unconscious in the street beside the Sheriff's office and bundled you out of sight as quickly as I could.” He met her gaze. “Sheriff Berringer is furious. He's blaming you and your brother for the attack. You might want to lay low for a bit.” The two looked at one another for a long moment, then Ben offered his hand. “Come on, I've got some porridge and fresh bread for breakfast.”

She let him settle her at his table, nodding in thanks as she dug her spoon into the thick porridge. “Where is my brother?”

Ben hesitated, a strange look crossing his face. A chill ran down her spine and she set down the spoon. “Ben?”

“Last I saw of him, he was heading east.” He shot her a look, part awe, part sorrow. “He was clinging to the end of a witch's broom as she headed out of town. That was right before I found you. He hasn't made it back to town, yet.”

Her blood ran cold and her heart raced in fear, though she kept her expression as bland as she could. “I need to find him.” She half rose from her seat.

Ben put a hand on her shoulder before quickly snatching it away. “At least eat your breakfast before you go. The woods are pretty thick in that direction. You'll need your strength.”

Reluctantly agreeing, Gretel shoveled porridge into her mouth all the while asking questions about the surrounding area.

8

Once past the outskirts of the town, her practiced eye spotted the trail of bent and broken branches that marked the direction the witch had carried – dragged – her brother through the air on her broom.

The trail led further into the woods toward a small set of mountains. From the maps she'd read, as well as from what Ben had told her, they were full of caves and plateaus perfect for a coven of witches to set themselves up at home. A shiver of foreboding raced down her spine.

With every moment that she found no sign of her brother, her heart sank a bit further. She'd traveled several hours and found herself miles away from town. Granted, flight was much quicker than going by foot, and she was slowed with having to look for signs of disturbance; but just how had Hansel hung on for so long? She knew his tenacity, but the evidence looked pretty clear that the witch had done all she could to shake him loose. Did he now languish within the witch's clutches? Or perhaps he lay somewhere along the trail, hurt or dying? Did he even still live?

Gretel paused, palms pressed against a tree trunk to steady herself as she took a deep breath. “He's fine,” she murmured. “He's fine. We've survived everything witches and the world have thrown at us, so far. A few bumps and bruises won't stop us.” She glanced around again, “Everything will be fine once we're together again.”

She just had to find him first.

Another hour passed and her chest felt tight as her calls continued to go unanswered. The witch's flight had become somewhat erratic, and Gretel could only surmise that Hansel had managed to become a bigger threat, somehow. She hurried her steps, part of her attention on the leaf-littered ground to avoid obstacles; each suspicious lump sending her heart in her throat until they resolved themselves into leaf-covered logs. The rest focused on the trail that led from bough to broken bough.

A flash of color caught her attention and Gretel slowed, bringing the crossbow to bear. The blob of peach and yellow resolved itself into a dress with a cascade of long blonde hair. Gretel relaxed a fraction in recognition. It was Mina, the young woman they'd saved from being burned as a witch shortly after they'd arrived in town. Mina's head was tilted upward, her eyes wide in surprise at something above her.

Following her gaze, Gretel blinked in shock. Hansel hung upside down from the upper most branch of the tree. She moved closer, brows creased as she assessed the situation. It appeared one of his legs had gotten tangled. She winced, not envying the amount of pain he probably felt with all his weight hanging from that one leg. She opened her mouth to call to him, only to hear Mina call first.

“Hansel? Hansel, are you alright?”

Gretel rolled her eyes, snarking to herself. 'He's up a tree. Do you think he's alright?' But when he didn't immediately respond, Gretel broke into a run.

Mina's pale blue eyes, similar enough to Hansel's so as to set her aback a moment, flew to meet hers as Gretel stopped beside her. The woman's white knuckled grip on her half-filled basket, the gathered herbs and plants a silent explanation for her presence so far from town, relaxed a bit as she recognized her. “Oh, thank Heavens.”

“Has he said anything?” She slung the crossbow over her shoulder and studied the tree trunk, looking for handholds.

“No. But I think I heard him groan.”

Gretel wanted to breathe a sigh of relief, but couldn't. Not yet. She didn't know what injuries he might carry. Nor did she know how she was going to get him out of the tree without killing them both. “Hansel? Can you hear me?”

She took a step forward and froze as the toe of her boot caught on something. Looking down, she blinked, her blood running cold. The hard leather satchel that contained her brother's injections seemed to mock her. Bending to pick it up, she winced as she heard glass clink together, the leather itself damp. “Oh, please be dew,” she whispered and raised the flap. Her heart sank as her eyes took in the sight. Each of the syringes were broken, the medicine having seeped out from the number of blows they'd encountered during the wild flight. “Oh, shit.” When did he take his last injection? How much time did he have before his body shut down from the sugar sickness?

She didn't even notice that she'd started to hyperventilate until a hand on her shoulder startled her out of her shock. She jerked, sending an elbow flying.

Mina dodged the blow, unsurprised by the attack, but not at all angry. “I can help.”

“How?” Despair tasted like ashes in her mouth.

“I know of healing waters nearby. If we can get him down and to them, the waters will help with any wounds he has. I also know enough herbalism to help take care of him in case he has a reaction from the sugar sickness.”

Gretel cast Mina a side-long look. “You know?”

The blonde looked a bit uneasy, as if aware she was privy to private information. “He had to medicate himself when I spotted him in the market yesterday. He told me when younger a witch made him eat so much candy it made him ill.”

Gretel handed Mina the crossbow, missing when the woman's eyes turned thoughtful as she murmured. “It's odd, though. I'm not used to the symptoms coming so quickly and disappearing just as quickly.”

“Here. Keep an eye out. There's no telling who or what is about, and I don't think you'll be able to climb in that dress.”

Mina looked down ruefully, but accepted the crossbow. She didn't look happy to be holding the weapon but didn't exhibit any awkwardness with it, either. Gretel grabbed a low hanging branch and pulled herself up into the tree. “You've used a crossbow before?” She asked partly out of genuine curiosity and partly to keep her mind off how injured Hansel might be. They were both light sleepers, by necessity. That Hansel hadn't woken with all the noise the two of them made worried her more than she was willing to admit.

“A few times. I've helped my family repel wolves during a bad winter and raiders a handful of times in my old village.”

“You're not a native to Augsburg, then?” Gretel shimmied up the tree trunk a few feet, resting on a branch halfway up. A few more feet and she'd be level with her brother.

“No. I moved to Augsburg a few years ago. I was to wed, but my fiancé died a few weeks before the wedding. I had no place to return to. The town's doctor took pity on me. He claimed he was getting too old and could use an assistant.”

Settling herself on a branch that creaked ominously beneath her weight, Gretel finally found herself level with Hansel's face. She reached up and lay a hand on his neck and gave a shaky sigh of relief as his pulse beat strongly beneath her fingers. “Let me guess. The Sheriff accused you because you're foreign, considered bad luck due to your fiancé dying, too educated for his tastes and doing a job he feels only men should, and you probably turned down his advances a time or two.”

The snort Mina gave sounded half amused, half exasperated. “Yes.”

Gretel shifted to peer upward, studying the way Hansel's leg was tangled. Her mouth firmed, “Mina, keep your eyes open. The witch might still be around.”

“What's wrong?”

“The vines holding him are wrapped deliberately. Either the witch planned to return for him later, or...”

She heard the woman's sudden intake of surprise. “Or he's been left as bait for a trap.”

“Exactly.”

She studied Hansel again. Scratches lined his face from whip-thin branches and a large bruise covered the right side of his face. So, they were dealing with at least a concussion. The way he dangled told her that he'd also have some problems with his left hip. Until she got him down and could examine him, she didn't know if there were any other injuries. She was going to need his cooperation if she had any hope at all of getting him safely down from the tree. He'd been tied out far enough along the branch that even if she managed to untie him she didn't have the leverage needed to keep him from falling by herself.

“Hansel? Wake up, Hansel. C'mon, brother-mine. We've got work to do. Witches to kill. Children to save. C'mon, Hansel.” All the while she caressed his face and ran her fingers through his hair. Her fingers caught on a few spots where blood matted the strands, but the gashes had long stopped bleeding and his skull felt intact.

A low moan caught her attention and Hansel slowly blinked awake. “Gretel?” Low and raspy, his voice, nonetheless, was the sweetest thing she'd ever heard.

“Oh, thank God.”

A frown creased his brow. “Why are you upside down?” He looked upward, blinking in startlement at the ground and Mina looking up at him. “Shit. Why am I upside down?”

Gretel grabbed his hand, gaining his attention. “Hold still. You're caught in a tree. There's only a single vine keeping you from falling. So don't make any sudden movements.”

He stilled and she was pleased to see the initial panic fade from his eyes, as he let his trust for her calm him. “Shit. How far up are we?”

“Probably a good twenty feet. At this height, you could break your neck if we're not careful.”

He craned his neck to look around, keeping his body still. She knew he saw the same situation she did. He was too far from the trunk to easily grab it and the closest branch below him was ten feet down.

“How sturdy is the branch I'm tied to?”

She assessed the bough. “Relatively. If you put too much stress on it, it'll break. But if you're careful...” She cocked her head at him, trying to follow his train of thought. “What do you plan to do?”

“Well, unless I want to take the express route, I'm gonna need ta hook my free leg over the branch.” He sighed, a weary sound that let her know just how exhausted he felt. “Then, somehow, the other. Once I do that, I can probably inch my way closer to the trunk.”

Gretel bit her lip, looking him in the eye. “Think you can?” He didn't answer for a long moment. “Hansel?” she prompted. “How bad off are you?”

Hansel shifted his shoulders and then his hips, wincing. He looked sheepish, “I'm gonna need some help. My hip's screaming.”

She sighed mentally. Any time he got injured, he always felt like he was a burden to her. She never thought so, if only she could convince him of that. She only nodded.

He looked up again, brushing the edges of his coat irritably out of the way. “I can do this easier if I lose some weight.”

“Mina,” Gretel called down. “Step back. Hansel's going to drop some of his stuff.”

The young woman obediently took shelter beneath another tree.

Gingerly, Gretel helped Hansel out of his coat, not wanting to pull too hard, praying the vine would hold long enough for Hansel to secure himself. The large leather garment landed with a dull thud upon the leaves. His gun belt and ammo pouches were next.

She watched his fingers scrabble over his thigh and his face turned panicked when he didn't encounter his medicine pouch. She reached out a hand, grasping his shoulder. “I found it.” Gretel cursed herself for Hansel's relieved smile, but didn't tell him the damage that had occurred to the syringes. He needed to focus on getting out of the tree safely. Then, she'd tell him what she and Mina planned.

She prayed he'd forgive her.

888

Without the coat in the way, Hansel could look past his body to where his leg was tied to the branch. His sister was right, if he wasn't careful, he might end up loosening the vine too soon and crashing to the ground.

He ached all over; knew that he was one large bruise from careening into tree branches most of the night. At the beginning of the wild flight, he'd hung on in the vague hope of sending the witch crashing due to the excess weight. When that hadn't worked, she'd gone higher, and he'd hung on knowing that letting go would mean his death.

At one point, he managed to pull himself up further on the broom, his hand inches away from grasping a hold on the witch's clothing. The Redhead witch had glared at him, but there had been an odd expression in her eyes. He thought he heard her mutter, “You might be of more use than I thought.”

How he ended upside down in the tree, however, he had no clue.

His hip joint protested giving a sharp pop and grind as he shifted, sending shards of pain up his back and down his leg. He feared he might have permanent damage, but pushed the thought aside. He'd deal with that after he got out of the damned tree.

His head spun, most likely from a concussion, as well as all the blood having rushed to his head. Gretel's presence kept him from completely freaking out.

It always did.

Gretel settled herself more securely against the tree and offered her hand. They clasped wrists. Now, able to keep his torso from wildly swinging back and forth, Hansel slowly drew his legs up, biting his lip against the spasm of pain that ran from hip to knee as the tendons and muscles screamed at the additional abuse. After what felt like an eternity, he felt the heel of his foot brush the branch. With an explosive breath, he used Gretel's arm as leverage and managed to hook his free knee over the bough.

He panted, blinking sparkles from his vision, knowing if he blacked out now, he'd lose his tenuous grip. The jolt would more than likely loosen the binding and cause him to fall. The steady pressure of Gretel's hand around his wrist helped him keep his focus. “'M okay.”

He heard her huff in fond exasperation. “Yeah, tell me that again when we're both on solid ground, alright?”

“Deal.” He ducked his chin in order to see his feet and groaned. “Damn.” He tried twisting his foot out of the vine and sucked in a pained breath. Gritting his teeth, he tried for a few moments more before making a strangled sound in the back of his throat in his frustration. “Well, looks like we didn't have to worry about me falling. I can't get loose. Can you reach to cut the vine?” Now that the weight had shifted, he could feel his hip flare in agony, but it worried him more that he couldn't feel his toes.

Dark brown eyes, so like their father's, stared at him in consternation. Her grip tightened, and he nodded encouragingly. With obvious reluctance, Gretel released her hold and moved out of his immediate sight as she shimmied up the tree trunk. The tree swayed with her movement, and he swallowed heavily trying to keep his gorge from rising as the motion caused his body to swing back and forth. His hip sharply protested the movement, making him pray he wouldn't pass out from the pain.

He tried to watch her progress, but the angle hurt his neck and made his vision swim. Instead, he focused his gaze down below, his mind absently noting the way Mina held the crossbow and that the young woman divided her attention between her surroundings and what was happening up in the tree.

His wandering attention snapped back at the pressure upon his foot and he heard a knife sawing at the vine.

“Almost through,” Gretel's voice sounded tense. “On the count of three, I'm going to cut through the rest and pull on your leg to help you hook your knee. Alright?”

“Yup.” His breath thready with pain, he braced himself.

“One. Two. Three!”

For a brief instant, he felt weightless as his leg swung loose. Then, he felt a sharp pain as Gretel pulled his leg upward. He held in the cry, not wanting to startle her into falling herself.

He shoved the approaching oblivion firmly away and forced his leg to hook over the bough, finally equalizing the pressure in his hips. “Damn it.” He took great gasping breaths of air, trying to regulate the pain, trying to think clearly enough to get himself and Gretel out of this predicament. He understood the danger their position posed. A sudden slackening of a grip could send them plummeting. Here, they were easy targets if one of the witches returned. 'You might be of more use than I thought.' He couldn't suppress the shudder.

“Hansel?” Her hand lay protectively over his shin.

“'M fine.”

A double tap of her finger along his shin bone let him know that he wasn't fooling her in the slightest, but he was grateful that she didn't call him on it. “You gonna hang around here for the rest of your life, or are you going to inch along the branch 'til you can reach the trunk?”

“Oh, I dunno. The view is so lovely from here.” He was so tired, but he knew that he had to try; for Gretel's sake, if not his own.

She snorted. “Now I know the head rush has gotten to you. C'mon, brother-mine.” She ran her hand down his leg from knee to ankle, comfortingly, then shifted out of his way.

888

Gretel figured Hansel was in quite a bit more pain than he let on. There wasn't anything she could do about it except pray it wouldn't keep him from climbing out of the tree safely.

She watched as Hansel curled his body upward until he could grasp the branch with both hands. Using mostly his arms, shoulders, and abdominal muscles, he inched himself along the branch. Her fingers itched to grab a hold of him, but she knew that she didn't have enough strength to manage his weight.

Finally at the trunk, she watched with bated breath as he unhooked his legs and dangled from his hands. She could see how stiff his left leg had become. “Can you shimmy down?”

Pale blue-gray eyes, so like their mother's, peered at her. “Hope so. But just in case, I'd rather go down first.” She opened her mouth to protest, but he rushed on. “I don't want to fall into you if I lose my grip. Better just one of us injured rather than both. Right?”

And damn him if he wasn't right. She pressed her lips together in disapproval. “Fine. Just don't lose your grip.”

He flashed a grin at her, the infuriating man. “By your command,” he teased.

“And don't you forget it, either.”

He gingerly wrapped his legs around the trunk, took a breath to steady himself, then quickly moved his hands to hug the tree. She saw his muscles quiver and a brief expression of pain cross his face, but he made no sound. He breathed harshly from his nose and made his way down the tree in slow, careful movements.

He bypassed the branch that jutted out halfway down, instead of pausing to take a break, and in sudden insight she realized that Hansel was nearing the end of his endurance. Any pause now would be disastrous as muscles locked up and energy drained from him.

Hansel gave a startled gasp and slipped a few feet from the bottom. He lay in the small pile of leaves, curled in on himself, his hands gripping his hip. Gretel cursed and quickly scrambled to land at his side.

888

Mina kept quiet as Gretel helped Hansel clamber to the tree trunk, not wanting to break their concentration, though she longed to ask if he was alright.

She could tell by the way he moved that hanging upside down for God knows how long had badly hurt his hip. She hoped the muscles were only inflamed, for that would heal easily with time. If, however, the muscles had torn, they might not ever fully recover. The man would forever walk with a limp, and for someone who hunted witches for a living, that could be a fatal handicap.

She kept one eye on the siblings and the other on her surroundings, while rifling her memories for any remedies she could use to help. She'd already gathered herbs for cleansing wounds and reducing fevers, but with the added complications of the sugar sickness (and there was something odd about the way Hansel's symptoms presented themselves, if she could just figure out why she felt that way), Mina realized that their best bet was the healing waters two miles to the east.

Lips pressed tightly together, she anxiously scanned the trees. Like Gretel, Mina realized that Hansel should have been dead. The witch had left him deliberately, either believing she'd return later to retrieve him for some nefarious purpose, or as a lure. Either scenario sent a shudder of foreboding down her spine.

Her eyes widened in shock as Hansel slipped only a few feet from the bottom and collapsed onto the ground clutching his hip. Gretel jumped the last few feet to kneel beside her brother. Without a thought, Mina rushed over. She thrust the crossbow at Gretel and moved the woman away from her brother, not even taking into consideration how the witch hunter might react to such a move.

Quickly and precisely, Mina jabbed two fingers into the muscle that ran from back to hip, triggering a pressure point. She pressed on the muscle that felt like a cord of steel, leaning forward, practically putting all her weight upon it. Hansel hissed in pain, his body tensing, then suddenly relaxing as the clenched muscle released. He blinked up at her in surprised thankfulness.

“Can you stand?”

Hansel shifted his leg thoughtfully and gave a hesitant nod. Both women grabbed one of his forearms and hauled him to his feet. He wavered a moment, laying a hand on the tree to steady himself. “Thank you.”

Mina just nodded, suddenly aware of the partial glower Gretel cast upon her.

“Find me something I can use as a walking staff?” Hansel asked, brushing bark from his hands.

Without a word, Gretel stalked off. Mina tilted her head and watched her walk away, then returned her gaze to Hansel. “We can help.”

He gave a faint smile, though pain still shone in his eyes. “I know, but if we're attacked, I don't want either of you hindered.”

A loud snap sounded and Gretel returned with a broken-off branch, tossing it to her brother. “Besides, he weighs a ton.”

He caught it easily, testing its soundness. “Oh, thanks a lot.”

She smiled sweetly at him. “You're welcome.” She turned toward Mina. “How far away are these healing waters you mentioned?”

Hansel laboriously wrapped his weapons belt and ammo pouches around his waist and shrugged back into his leather coat. “Healing waters?” He adjusted the weight, using the branch to keep his balance.

“About two miles to the east of here. I've used them before.” She glanced shyly at Hansel. “They'll help your hip and other injuries.”

The woman nodded and, after another glance at her brother, she took point, her crossbow up and ready. Hansel fell in step behind her, his stride awkward at first, but soon evening out as he mastered moving with the makeshift crutch. Mina had a hard time understanding Gretel. Overly concerned one minute, then seemingly disinterested the next. That Hansel took it all in stride only confused her more.

Subtly, Mina studied Hansel as they walked. His face pale and drawn made the circles beneath his eyes stand out even further. Mina noticed the sheen of sweat and minute trembling of his limbs and prayed to Heaven that they had time before he had a reaction to the sugar sickness. Spotting some herbs she needed, Mina gathered while they walked. She even managed to convince Hansel to eat the last of her beef jerky, getting a small smile from Gretel for the kindness.

They'd traveled nearly half the distance and were approaching a clearing in the woods when Mina thought she felt eyes upon her.

“Gretel?” she murmured.

The dark haired woman nodded curtly, “I know.”

“At least three of them,” Hansel replied, equally quiet. “Maybe as many as six.”

Mina stared at him in surprise. She honestly hadn't thought Hansel had been paying attention to anything other than where he placed his feet.

The flat stare he returned told her that the witch hunter had a keen awareness of his surroundings, despite the pain. Somehow that made her feel better.


	2. Chapter 2

888

part 2

888

Gretel cautiously moved forward, consciously loosening her too-tight grip on the crossbow. She rolled back her shoulders, aware that being too tense would actually slow her reaction time.

She could make out what looked like a clearing a hundred or so yards ahead of them. Whoever was shadowing them would more than likely attack when they didn't have the trees for cover.

On the positive side, it wasn't a witch. A witch would have already attacked, using the trees to their best advantage. No, their current stalkers were human. Not usually a problem for the siblings, but with Hansel injured and having to protect Mina, things could get a bit hairy.

The dark haired woman cursed under her breath. They didn't have time for this. The witches had made it plain that they would sacrifice the children in two days' time, during the blood moon. They didn't even know where the ritual would take place. So much time had been lost between being knocked unconscious by the Grand High Witch and trying to find her brother. On top of that, Hansel could succumb to the sugar sickness at any moment. If she didn't know for a fact that spells didn't work on them, she'd swear they were under a curse with the number of obstacles that had been placed in their path.

She strode out of the tree line, blinking as her eyes adjusted to the change in light. That's when she was blind-sided. A large fist slammed into her side, causing her to half curl in on herself. An open palmed blow to her arm sent the crossbow flying.

She heard Mina yelp in pain, and the crash of a body on the leaf-littered ground as someone shoved her to the ground. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mina's basket fall, the contents spilling out.

The heavy thump of a tree branch slamming into someone, and the wheeze of someone's breath leaving the body in a whoosh had her grin sharply. At least Hansel had not been caught unaware.

Gretel threw a punch at a thin, young man with greasy blond hair, skimming his cheek as he jerked his head to the side. He reached out and grasped her wrist, twisting until he had her arm behind her back at an awkward, painful angle. An older, grizzled man with salt and pepper hair - the one who'd disarmed her - grabbed her other arm, holding her between them.

A few feet away, she could see Mina held in a choke hold by a stocky long haired man with a pock-marked face. The woman gasped for breath, clawing ineffectually at the arm around her throat.

Gretel snarled as Sheriff Berringer's nasal voice could be heard. "Bloody bitch. You and your bastard of a brother have caused me no end of trouble."

His voice broke off with a pained yell as Hansel slammed the end of his walking stick into the man's face, re-shattering the nose.

Berringer fell, but Gretel's satisfaction was short lived when a fifth man, wiry with cold dark eyes, aimed for Hansel's injured hip and connected with a solid kick that sent her brother to the ground. Hansel bared his teeth but refused to cry out.

Face red with rage, Berringer scrambled to his feet and began kicking Hansel while uttering foul obscenities. The wiry individual joined the Sheriff to keep Hansel off his feet.

With an outraged scream Gretel struggled to free herself from the men who held her, desperate to get to her brother. She stomped on the blond's instep and rammed the back of her head into his face. He released her arm with a curse, hands automatically moving to cup his mouth where she'd knocked out a tooth or two. The older man, however, punched her in the stomach, making her lose her breath.

Mina had collapsed to the ground, dead or unconscious, she couldn't tell. The man who'd had her stepping over to join the two surrounding her brother.

She couldn't catch her breath. The older man had her by both upper arms while the other continued to hit her. But she couldn't take her eyes off her brother whose body moved limply like a rag doll with each kick that connected. "HANSEL!" she screamed.

As if in response to her cry, a roar sounded from the opposite side of the clearing. The trees shook and collapsed as a large green-skinned creature burst from the woods and barreled toward the group of humans at speeds faster than the bulky body would suggest.

The Troll scattered the men surrounding Hansel's prone form. Gretel held her breath in suppressed terror, but to her surprise the Troll's large feet didn't come anywhere near her brother. It grabbed the pock-marked man by his long hair and tore his head off as easily as a child plucks a rose from its stem.

Berringer scrambled backward, scuttling like a crab, his mouth opening and closing like a fish.

The wiry man with the cold dark eyes pulled his gun and open fired upon the beast. The Troll raised an arm before its face, deflecting the bullets.

One bullet whizzed past Gretel's cheek, lodging in the forehead of the older, grizzled man who'd had her by the arms, and he fell without a sound.

With a growl, the Troll leaped forward and grasped the gun, engulfing both weapon and the man's hand in one massive fist. With a savage twist and jerk, the Troll ripped the man's arm off at the shoulder. The wiry man screamed, his voice echoing in agony as the Troll proceeded to beat him to death with his own arm.

The Troll turned toward Berringer, who by this time had gained his feet and had taken to his heels as if the very devil himself were after him. With a grunt, the Troll threw the arm it held like a javelin, skewering the Sheriff like a bug with a pin. The man fell, and the arm flopped at the elbow as if patting his back in reassurance.

Breath wheezing and hissing like a tea kettle, the blond gave a high, near girlish shriek of terror and shoved Gretel into the path of the approaching monster.

Large hands grasped her and she sent a fervent apology to her brother for failing him.

The world spun on its axis, and she gasped as she landed on the grass between Hansel and Mina. The Troll turned its back to her, and she crawled over to her brother, jostling Mina's shoulder with her leg in her haste. Her fingers skimmed over her brother, glad to find a pulse, but terrified as to what additional injuries the Sheriff and his men had inflicted.

Eyes wide, she watched as the Troll lumbered after the last man, casually catching up to him. It stepped forward and grabbed the blond by the shoulder. Before the man could even scream, the Troll brought its fist down upon his head, bursting it like a melon and letting the body fall as it would.

888

Mina woke abruptly, heart racing, eyes darting frantically at the rough shake. Sitting up, she felt her breath catch at the carnage around her. One of the ambushers lay near her, missing an arm, and brutally beaten to death. She gagged and emptied the contents of her stomach at the sight. Deliberately, she avoided looking too closely at the two other men who lay only a few feet away.

Gretel knelt beside her brother, trying to wake him, her dark gaze glassy with shock as she stared toward the tree line.

Suddenly not wanting to know what could unnerve the usually self-confident witch hunter, Mina quickly gathered her spilled herbs, roots, and flowers.

Hansel's body gave a lurch and convulsions shuddered through his frame. Gretel flung herself over him, trying to reduce the damage the seizure could cause as he thrashed about, limbs flailing.

Mina cursed and pawed through her basket, looking for a particular plant as she moved to sit by Hansel's head. She put the plant in her mouth and chewed, careful not to swallow any of the juice. Removing it, she pried open Hansel's mouth and placed the sodden mass beneath his tongue, then clamped his jaw shut. She stroked his throat encouraging him to swallow and praised Heaven when she felt him do so.

Gretel spoke not a word, just hung on with grim determination, as if her weight and presence alone would keep her brother with her. Brown eyes had darkened to black and remained fixed on his contorted features. Mina could see the agony reflected there.

Gradually, the shuddering slowed, then stopped. Hansel's breathing remained shallow, and his face was parchment pale beneath his tan. Mina removed the remains of the herb, tossing it onto the ground. She lifted an eye lid and examined his pupil before looking up at Gretel. "We need to get him to the healing waters, and quickly. I don't know if he can handle another fit in the condition he's in."

Gretel opened her mouth to speak, but both women froze as a large shadow fell over them. Mina looked up in fear as Gretel huddled protectively over Hansel.

The Troll stared down at them, brow furrowed, hands clenching and unclenching rhythmically. It shuffled its feet as amber brown eyes studied them.

For a long moment, no one moved.

With an impatient snort, the Troll stepped forward and brushed Gretel to the side; an oddly gentle motion for such a creature. It gathered Hansel up in its arms, ignoring her cry of distress. Arranging the man so his head rested on its shoulder, the Troll stalked off. "Come," its voice low and gravelly, but surprisingly pleasant. "Water this way."

The two women stared at one another in stunned incredulity.

Noticing the Troll was not waiting for them, Mina gave a startled squeak, grabbed her basket and hauled Gretel to her feet. "Come on."

Gretel, her expression fairly wild-eyed, scooped up her crossbow and darted after the Troll.

Mina followed, doing her best to ignore the bodies they passed; wondering why this creature had come to their rescue; terrified to discover what that purpose might be.

Despite the lumbering walk, the Troll had a ground-eating stride, and they arrived at the site much sooner than they would have managed on their own.

The creature lay Hansel down on the mossy bank, taking care not to bang his head, then lumbered around to where a small waterfall splashed merrily into the pool.

Looking between Hansel's battered form and the water, Mina made a decision. "It'll work better if he's immersed."

888

Gretel dragged her gaze from the Troll who had pulled some bark off a tree and now scraped something from the walls behind the waterfall onto it.

Studying her brother, a wry grimace crossed her face. "Oh, he's not going to be happy with me." She began the laborious process of divesting Hansel of his weapons and clothing. "Not in the least."

"Why is that?" Mina's calm demeanor and confident movements reminded Gretel that the blonde assisted the town's doctor and had dealt with similar things in the past.

"Well..." she huffed a laugh, not that she felt anything about the situation funny, but she needed something to keep from breaking down into sobs at the moment. "For one, he's awfully shy. If he knew you were helping me undress him..." she let it trail off, grinning at the giggle she got in return.

They'd gotten the jacket, accoutrements, vest, and shirt off. Several scars crisscrossed his upper body; sadly, not all came from dealing with witches. Bruises bloomed over the right side of Hansel's chest. Several looked older, from his wild broom ride through the forest, but others were fresher, from the brutal kicks administered. Gretel ran her hands over his ribs, wincing as several felt unsound.

"Why else won't he be happy with you?" Mina's expression was somber, but Gretel appreciated the distraction.

"Last time we were in water that deep, we had gone after a serpent witch." Gretel focused on unlacing Hansel's boots, removing the daggers he'd slid into them. "Ugly thing. All bulgy eyes and warty skin. Looked more like a toad than a snake. She wasn't very graceful on land, but in the water?" Gretel shook her head. "Hansel would admit he's not a very strong swimmer, but when she transformed, she got her coils around him and pulled him under. He nearly drowned before he was able to cut her head off with his knife. He'll avoid deeper water if he can." She pulled off his trousers but left his undergarments, maybe he wouldn't murder her when he woke if she let him keep some of his dignity.

"We'll make sure we're both in there with him. He'll be fine." Mina's promise went a long way in reassuring her.

Gretel tensed as the Troll returned, thrusting the bark bowl into Mina's hands. She scrutinized the substance, then her expression brightened. "Oh, this is perfect. Thank you." It wandered off again, and she brought the bowl closer. "The minerals left behind by the waterfall can clean out wounds, seal them, and help them heal quicker."

Between the two of them, they covered every cut and bruise they could find. Gretel dashed tears from her eyes; they practically covered his body from head to toe with the paste.

Despite being shorter than most men; hell, she liked to tease him that even she was taller than he; Hansel had always seemed larger than life to Gretel. His broad shoulders, intense personality, and sheer presence dominated those around him, even when sitting in the corner of a tavern quietly drinking. But now, unconscious and injured, Gretel had to admit that her brother was not a large individual, especially when compared to other men. It disturbed her more than she cared to admit to see that vitality missing.

He remained unconscious, even as they slipped him into the pool.

The two women found a ledge to sit on that gave Gretel quick access to their weapons if they were needed. "Hook your arm across his chest." At Mina's questioning look, Gretel continued. "He doesn't float very well. It's another reason he doesn't like deep water." She leaned back against the rock ledge. "How long will we need to keep him in here?"

Mina shrugged. "A few hours? Maybe longer." She studied Hansel's slack face as she cupped her hand and poured water over his brow, careful not to submerge him. "The waters will take care of any physical injuries. What has me worried is the sugar sickness."

Gretel felt her face shutter as it did anytime an outsider commented on her brother's illness. "What about it?"

"It's odd." Mina hesitated, then her expression firmed. "I've dealt with those with the sugar sickness before, and I've seen Hansel have an attack. There's something odd about it."

"Are you saying we're lying?" Gretel tensed.

Mina tilted her head, gazing calmly back. "No. I'm saying there's something odd about it."

Gretel took a breath, trying to regain her temper. "Explain."

"Those with the sugar sickness, their symptoms appear gradually. First they feel real hungry and a bit weak. They get a headache and have some difficulty concentrating. Then it moves on to excessive sweating, cold and clammy skin, and increased weakness." She poured some more water over Hansel's brow. "After a while, they get confused and experience memory loss. They have difficulty walking and double vision. Then, if they haven't taken anything to correct the problem, it goes to muscle twitching, unconsciousness and convulsions. This can all take up to an hour." She frowned, but continued. "After they have their injection, or manage it with some fruit or even honey, the symptoms go away after ten to fifteen minutes. It takes a while to regain their strength and they usually complain of headaches." Mina stared directly at Gretel. "Your brother's symptoms went from feeling a bit weak, to having difficulty walking, to nearly passing out all within a few minutes. After his injection, it went away just as quickly, and he was perfectly fine again. That's not usual."

Her brow wrinkled in thought. "So, it's been accelerated?"

Mina nodded. "Yes! That sounds right." She continued to bathe Hansel's face.

Gretel could see the bruising begin to fade as the waters healed her brother and tension began to ease from her shoulders and back. "What would cause it to accelerate?"

"It's not natural, that's for sure. It would have to be magic based, somehow."

"Spells and curses don't work on us." Gretel knew that from experience. They had no idea what protected them, but thanked their lucky stars that they had that particular defense against witches.

"Maybe..." Mina felt out the words. "Maybe he wasn't cursed, but the candy was?"

Gretel swore luridly, ignoring the embarrassed flush Mina now sported. "Damn it." She splashed at the water with one hand. "So, what can we do?"

"We find a way to reverse the spell."

888

Hansel slowly pulled away from the dark arms of oblivion which wanted to keep him in their embrace. Eyes closed, he used his other senses to try and figure out where he was before alerting anyone nearby that he'd woken. By the feel of moss beneath him, and the gentle splash of water nearby, he knew he was no longer in the clearing where they'd been attacked. He cautiously moved his limbs, assessing any injuries. Considering the last day's activities, he felt surprisingly well. Instead of the pain of broken bones, pulled muscles, bruises and lacerations, he merely felt an all-over ache, as if he'd over-extended himself in a hunt. 'I guess they really are healing waters.'

His head felt stuffed with wool, and the gentle murmurs of his sister and Mina sounded far away. A dull throb behind his eyes beat in time with his heart. His mouth was dry, and an odd aftertaste coated his tongue. He mentally sighed, recognizing the after effects of a fit caused by the sugar sickness and wished, not for the first time, that he didn't have this weakness. He hated being a burden on his sister. Despite her protests to the contrary, he knew how much of a problem the sugar sickness caused to their lives, how much money got funneled to supply his medicine which could go toward a better use, and the number of close calls they'd had when he'd had a fit during a hunt. During his darker moments, he wished he'd died in the Gingerbread cottage rather than make Gretel have to deal with his illness. Then he'd feel guilty for the selfish thought. How could he even think about leaving his sister all alone?

He felt a hand on his cheek and blinked open his eyes, catching the surprise and deep-seated worry in Gretel's gaze. Her eyes were nearly black in her concern. He spotted Mina over her shoulder, the blonde's gaze more serene.

"Hey." His voice rasped in his throat, and he coughed to clear it, marveling that nothing hurt or shifted as he did so.

Two sets of hands helped him sit up, but a third set, large, green tinged with broken nails holding a piece of bark filled with water, caused him to pause. He tensed as adrenalin flowed through his veins prepping his body for fight or flight. His gaze rose to meet those of a Troll. The creature gazed back, golden brown eyes calm and expectant.

"It's okay," Mina reassured. "Edward just wants to help."

Gretel subtly squeezed his shoulder twice, their signal of agreement, and he relaxed, trusting his sister's judgment as she would his if the situation were reversed. Drinking, he blinked in surprise at the cold bite of the water. It soothed his throat and washed away the medicinal taste of herbs.

Finished, they helped him lean back, propped against a mossy rock. He frowned at his near nude state and scowled at his sister.

She had the audacity to grin at him, her eyes lightening in color as the worry lessened. "Had to submerge you in the healing pool. Don't worry, your virtue is still safe." The smile dropped and she continued more seriously. "The muscles in your hip had torn. You had five broken ribs, internal bleeding, a skull fracture, lots of cuts and bruises, and you had three fits along the way. Only one caused by the sugar sickness."

To anyone else, her tone sounded clipped, perhaps even cold. Mina shot her an incredulous glare, but Hansel merely smirked, hearing the underlying concern. He lay a hand on Gretel's leg. "Oh. Is that all?"

A quicksilver smile flashed across her face, and she covered his hand with her own. "I thought I'd lose you. Don't scare me like that, again."

"Never my intention." He searched her face, breathing a silent sigh of relief when he found no recriminations within her eyes.

She sighed and squeezed his hand. "I know." She studied him in turn. "How do you feel?"

Though both siblings refused to show weakness in front of others, they never lied or sidestepped the question when the other asked. So, though Hansel cast a cautious glance at Mina and 'Edward', he answered truthfully. "I ache, and my head feels stuffed with wool. But considering the alternatives, terrific."

Mina reached out a hand to brush his face, and he subconsciously flinched. Other than his sister, people rarely touched him; and even fewer did so without intent to harm. The few women who attempted to get close, if they could overcome the fear that his profession brought up or get past his sister, tended to be put off by his shyness. The often cruel rebuffs caused him to draw tighter in upon himself, becoming a self-feeding circle.

Mina leaned back, giving him his space, though he noted with a tinge of surprise that her expression appeared more saddened than offended. "The fuzziness should pass once you're back on your feet and moving, as should the aches. The healing waters and medicines we gave you worked well."

He looked up, frowning at the overcast sky. "How long was I out?"

The two women exchanged glances, and Hansel felt the frown deepen. "Gretel?" he sat up, alarmed.

"You were pretty bad off. It's midmorning."

888

Gretel cringed at the look that crossed her brother's face.

To anyone else, with drawn brows and lips pressed in a tight line, he looked severe, even angry, but she could see the expression that flashed in his eyes, the self-loathing turning them more gray than blue.

Not for the first time, she cursed their father, and not just for his abandonment. No, she cursed him for the heavy burden he'd placed on the thin shoulders of a not-quite nine year old boy. "Watch out for you sister," he'd said. If only he'd said, "Watch out for each other."

Hansel, being the older of the twins, as well as the boy, had taken the words to heart. While growing up, Hansel did everything he could to follow that directive, and when he couldn't …

Gretel had first seen that look when his refusal to eat had caused the Gingerbread Witch to threaten her life. She saw it again when Gretel had to stab the witch to keep her from killing Hansel. Anytime the sugar sickness struck, or an injury kept him for doing his job – and his job, he said, was to protect her – she'd see the same expression she saw now appear in his eyes.

It had taken her a few years to identify the emotion, and by then it was too late to change. It had become as much a part of him as the color of his eyes. Eyes that changed with his emotions, letting her know what he felt, even when he couldn't express it out loud. He hated when his own weakness meant that some harm could befall her. Gretel knew how much he strove to protect her. She never begrudged him the time needed to heal, nor belittled him when he got injured. She did everything in her power to prove to him that he was not a burden or a bother. She loved him.

She grasped his hand tightly between her own. "I'm fine. We're fine. And we still have time to save the children." As she used his eye color to gauge his feelings, she knew he did the same with her own. She stared at him, letting her determination and conviction show.

When the gray began to recede, she knew she'd caught his attention. "How?"

"The blood moon's tomorrow. We get our weapons and hunt the bitches down."

They'd need to iron out the details, of course, but for now the statement did its job. The self-hatred left Hansel's eyes. She knew he'd have her back.

888

"Which way back to town?" Hansel asked as he pulled on his clothing, stomped back into his boots, and slung his weapons across his back and around his waist once more. If he had difficulty meeting Mina's eyes, well... she wouldn't say anything about it.

"That way." Edward pointed toward the east.

Gretel shot a look at Mina, who nodded in confirmation

Hansel grinned, though his eyes remained thoughtful as he studied the Troll, trying to understand the creature and its motivation for helping them. "Well then, let's get this show on the road."

The quartet started off with Edward on point. The two siblings walked side by side, keeping a wary eye on their surroundings as well as the Troll. Mina trailed behind. The weather warm, the sun high in the sky, she figured it would take a few hours to return to town.

Her mind awhirl, her thoughts chasing each other down dead-ends. She knew she should tell them the truth. She could help them so much if she could come clean with them, but their possible reactions terrified her. Hansel had told her that he felt the only good witch was a dead witch. And although (luckily for her) Gretel required more evidence than just an accusation before allowing someone to burn to death, both siblings held such rage against witches she feared they'd never allow her to explain. The idea that all magic was evil caused those who used magic for good to keep their abilities to themselves for fear of persecution.

She didn't blame them for their prejudice. From the stories she heard, they had only ever encountered dark witches. Those who took delight in destruction. Those who seemed drawn to try to kill them. Something like that would color your perceptions.

Magic was neither good nor bad. It simply was. Like the air, it flowed invisibly through the world. Though its use did lay a stamp upon the soul for those with the Gift to access it, whether a witch showed any corruption depended upon the intent of their spell casting.

Therefore, dark witches were easier to spot by both appearance and deed.

She brushed a branch out of the way, her gaze landing on Edward. She'd never seen a Troll before, and until now, had thought them little more than mildly intelligent beasts that witches sent out on errands or used as a type of body guard.

Trolls serve witches, but it had not been her cry that summoned its help.

Her gaze drifted over Hansel and Gretel. She'd heard the stories: how spells and curses from the witches they fought had no effect upon them. Gretel had even admitted to such.

They weren't totally immune, though, or the healing waters would not have worked.

She worried her inner cheek with her teeth. People liked to gossip, and the strange and unusual were quality fare; over the years she'd heard rumors about the siblings, and the villagers had taken great delight in dissecting their lives and taking sides.

A small group of villagers believed their immunity meant that they, too, had made a pact with dark forces. 'Like won't affect like,' they enjoyed repeating.

Others believed that immunity meant that the siblings had angels watching over them as they did God's work ridding the world of such evils.

Mina didn't know about angels, but when she looked at the two of them from the corner of her eye, actively looking at their auras, she could see the protective magic that swirled and ebbed within. Someone much more powerful than she had cast the spells that kept any magic of ill intent from harming them.

Not sure how to tell them, she remained silent.

The woods thinned and Edward paused, pointing ahead. "Rest here awhile. Safe."

Looking forward, they saw they'd come across an abandoned house that stood forlornly in the center of the clearing. A barn shed had fallen victim to the elements, struck by lightning at some point and half destroyed, its doors hanging open by a single hinge. What looked like a rough grave with a large rock as a headstone lay between the two buildings. The garden to the left of the house lay overgrown with weeds and wildflowers. Garden implements lay scattered about, rusty with disuse. The air hung close and heavy around them.

Gretel cautiously climbed the porch, testing the wood to ensure they held her weight, and peered in through a window.

Mina watched as Hansel crouched and picked up a hand rake. He turned it slowly in his hands and murmured, "Now why would someone leave perfectly good tools just laying around?" He looked about, eyes intent. "Looks like the people just up and left everything." He cocked his head, brow furrowed. "So, even if they didn't take things with them, for whatever reason, why hasn't someone else come to scavenge?"

"Illness?" Mina offered. "Maybe people were afraid they might contract a disease if they were in the area?"

Hansel had turned, his attention caught by a pole that stood near the right hand corner of the house - its position jarring and out of place. "I'm thinking more superstition than illness." With a sudden chill down her spine, Mina noticed that the base of the pole looked charred.

Gretel had stepped into the house after Edward. Hansel quickly straightened, rake still in hand, and moved to follow.

Mina stood still, the wind through the trees a mournful cry that echoed her feelings. Things were about to change; she could feel it in her bones.

A loud crash, along with Edward's alarmed shout and a startled and pained yelp from the siblings, had her racing into the house.

Edward stood near the edge of a large hole in the floorboards, looking down with a worried expression. Dust puffed upward from the opening, disturbed after who knew how long. "Hansel?" The blonde moved to the edge, her motions careful lest she fall in, as well.

Beneath the house lay a small natural cavern-like area. Peripherally, she noticed candles lining the walls with books, scrolls, bottles, and jars on hand-hewn shelves. Her focus, however, stayed on the two motionless figures below her. Hansel lay on his back, unconscious. Gretel lay draped over him, having landed on her brother.

Before she could look for a way down, Edward picked her up and lowered her into the cavern. She stifled a startled gasp, but easily found her footing. "Thank you."

"Help them. Smell blood."

Mina knelt beside the siblings. Gretel had a gash along her temple, having hit her head at some point. Mina ran her hands down the woman's spine, breathing a sigh of relief that everything felt intact. Carefully, she rolled Gretel off her brother, laying her on her side so she wouldn't choke if the head injury caused her to vomit.

Hansel was out cold. That worried her. He'd spent far too long unconscious over the past day-and-a-half. However, it might have been a blessing in disguise. The three metal prongs of the hand rake had pierced his lower abdomen, his sister's weight sending the dull points through his leather vest and into his flesh.

Mina pulled the gardening tool from his side wincing at the pain she caused. Hansel cried out, but didn't wake.

Tearing a section of her under-dress, Mina cleaned the wounds as well as she could, despairing at the fetid scent that emanated from them. The bowels had been punctured. The herbs she had on hand were not sufficient this time to heal him, and the healing waters were too far away. There wasn't anything she could do. The wounds would soon go septic and Hansel would slowly die in agony.

She sobbed, letting her gaze wander in desperate hope before they landed on a book lying on a nearby shelf. The symbol upon the cover caught her eye and she held her breath, barely daring to hope. Could it be...?

888

Gretel slowly came to her senses.

She remembered entering the house and feeling an odd sense of connection. Weather and animals had done a number on the place, but she could see that the rooms were still fully furnished. The various knickknacks and other accoutrements that a family naturally gathered lay scattered about. Idly examining the main room, she moved toward the back wall where the kitchen stood; the boards beneath her feet creaked ominously. Edward stood in a corner, watching her, the gentleness so at odds with the rest of his appearance.

Hansel entered; his movements sharp and quick. Something outside had troubled him.

Gretel spotted a mark on the wall and motioned him over. "What do you make of this?"

Her brother drew near. With a sickening crack, the floor opened up beneath them, swallowing them. She felt Hansel reach for her, twisting in midair like a cat to take the brunt of the landing.

Hansel hit the ground first, his head cracking against the stone; she felt his breath leave him in a whoosh as she landed on him. A hard object between them slammed sharply into her ribs. Hansel gave a harsh cry of pain, and the world went dark as her own head met the ground.

Now, she lay on her side, her body aching from the landing. As if from far away, she could hear a soft murmured voice coupled with a rustling sound.

Gretel blinked open her eyes, her vision wavering. The small underground cavern looked hewn from the rock. Candle light bathed the room in a warm glow. The fresh scent of herbs calmed her even as she wondered were Hansel was.

Biting her lip to suppress a groan and keep from being sick, she propped herself up on her elbows, then froze in shock.

Hansel lay on his back, his vest and shirt hiked up to expose his abdomen. She could see three puncture wounds gaping like angry red mouths to the left of his navel. Beside him, on the ground nearest her, lay a small hand rake, a three-pronged tool used to break up clods of dirt in preparation for sowing seeds. The tips gleamed a dull red, and Gretel swallowed hard, one hand lightly rubbing at her ribs in remembrance.

Mina knelt on the other side of her brother with a large book lying in her lap. She read quietly from the book, one hand keeping her place, her other adding items to a bottle at regular intervals. The liquid fizzed and changed colors with each addition. Mina half shouted a last phrase, and the bottle's contents shimmered a pale blue.

Gretel felt rage and terror course through her. This woman they'd protected and trusted was a witch, and now she was trying to put some sort of spell on her brother. The betrayal felt bitter on her tongue. She pushed herself to her hands and knees, intent on stopping her.

Mina poured the contents over the injury. The liquid quickly absorbed into the skin. Mina spoke a phrase, the tone imploring, and made a pulling motion with her hand.

Gretel felt herself stiffen in shock as a glow surrounded Hansel's body, and her brother's back arched as he gasped. A witch's spell worked; how could this be possible? Had Mina somehow managed to find a way around their defenses?

She shuddered as a black oily-looking substance flowed from the wounds, fading like smoke on the wind. More and more smoke poured out. At first fast and thick, then dwindling to a trickle, then nothing. The tears in Hansel's skin closed, sealed, and turned to the silvered color of an old scar.

Mina leaned back on her heels, drawn and wan.

Gretel noticed Hansel's blue-gray eyes focused intently on Mina. She shifted closer, caught Hansel's attention, and easily read the wealth of emotions her brother normally never let anyone see: confusion, wariness, caution, and a small hint of awe.

"How...?" she breathed

"Intent," Mina responded, her voice low and even, but Gretel detected a thin strand of fear threaded through the tone. She refused to look at them and her gaze remained focused on the book in her lap. "You're both protected from spells and curses of ill-intent. But since I was healing..." she trailed off.

"I checked you. You were clean." Hansel's voice drifted on the air, his confusion clear.

"Magic only corrupts the body if used for evil intent." This time she did look up, eyes begging for understanding. "There are light witches in the world."

After a long drawn out moment, Hansel nodded, one hand grasping hers in a firm grip. "Thank you."

She nodded back, her smile a bit watery.

He sighed, then struggled into a sitting position. Gretel crawled over, tossing the hand rake to the side with a shudder. She ran a tentative hand over the wound site. "You just can't catch a break, can you?" she tried to tease, still shaken.

"Quite the opposite, actually. I've been damned lucky today."

Gretel nodded and wrapped her hand around his. Trying to distance herself, she looked around the room, a faint frown upon her face. "This isn't the usual witch's lair," she noted. The area, despite the fallen lumber and dust of disuse, looked meticulously clean and organized. No foul trophies littered the area. Nothing 'felt' dark.

"Reminds me of Gran Abbot's kitchen," Hansel murmured.

Gretel could only agree. After escaping the Gingerbread Witch, the siblings had tried to put as much distance between themselves and the evil place as they could, eventually stumbling upon another village. Gran Abbot was the village herbalist and midwife. An aging widow with no children of her own, she took the orphans in. It was she who diagnosed Hansel's sugar sickness, and she who created the recipe they mixed for the injections Hansel used to ward off the symptoms. They'd stayed with her for two years before she died in her sleep one night. Unwilling to be orphaned a third time, the siblings kept to themselves from then on.

They rose to their feet. Mina kept a careful distance from the two siblings. "How do you feel?"

"Good." Hansel paused, his attention turned inward, and his voice had an odd timbre to it. "Real good. I haven't felt this good since..." he trailed off, eyes flying to meet Mina's.

The blonde bit her bottom lip, looking vaguely uncomfortable. "I found a spell in the book that removed curses and combined it with the healing potion. That's what the black smoke was."

Gretel felt her jaw drop, remembering their earlier conversation. "You mean...?"

She nodded, "If it worked like it should, you won't have the sugar sickness anymore."

Hansel blinked, then blinked again. "It was a curse?" He tilted his head to study her. "How do you know?"

"Your symptoms came too quickly and left just as quickly once you took your injection." She fidgeted again and shyly handed over his medicine satchel. "I noticed that most of the ingredients were herbs I've seen used to counter minor curses."

"So, Gran Abbot was a witch, too?" Hansel asked quietly.

Gretel sighed, "I don't know what to think anymore. It's not like she could have told us it was a curse. She would have had to prove that she was a witch, or we would never have listened."

Hansel snorted. "Tell the truth, Gretel. We were so shell-shocked, we probably would have attacked her on the spot if she had mentioned being a witch.

Gretel nodded. "Why didn't she cancel it, why just counter?"

Mina gracefully shrugged. "She might not have been powerful enough or might not have had access to the spell."

"Anything in there that can help us with our current problem?" Hansel asked with a wave at the book in her arms.

Mina nodded, eyes bright at the thought of being asked to help. "Most are too powerful for me to cast, but there's a blessing potion I can make that would keep a witch from affecting a weapon aimed at them."

"Too powerful?" Gretel blinked.

Mina caressed the book with a reverential air. "The one who owned this book was a Grand White Witch. Very powerful, but very ethical in their dealings with non-magicals."

"Gather what you think you'll need, Mina," Gretel suggested. "Then let's get back to town."

With Edward's help, they crawled out of the cavern. The Troll and Mina left them alone to try and regain their equilibrium in privacy.

"Gretel. You're going to want to see this." Hansel had gone up the steps to an alcove off the main room that still held two child-sized beds with a night stand between them. As she stopped beside him, he handed her a small ragdoll. It was old, the colors faded with time, but that same sense of connection rose in her. "I think this was our old house," he kept his voice low. She must have looked skeptical because he pointed at the wall along the left hand side where a childish hand had drawn three figures; a boy, a girl, and what might have been a dog.

"You've gotten better over the years," she murmured back; images of her brother grinning in glee as he'd drawn the picture, their dad's mild exasperation, and their mother's fond expression nearly overwhelmed her. She spun to stare wide-eyed at the hole in the floor. "Oh, my God..."

Hansel wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "C'mon. There's nothing we can do about it now."

Thoughts awhirl, she nodded and mechanically stepped with him to stride out of the house.


	3. Chapter 3

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part 3

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"Edward," Hansel walked beside the Troll, eyes sweeping the path, praying that there would be no more delays; he honestly didn't think he could handle any more, and time was running out. "Do you know where the children are being held?"

"Yes." The large being continued down the path, ignoring any branches that blocked the way. The Troll cast a placid gaze upon him. "Can take you there."

"It'll take us at least two hours to get to town and prep the weapons. Would they still be there? Or would the witches need to move them for the ceremony?"

Edward thought for a long moment. "No. Witches move children." He pointed toward the mountains several miles away. "Full coven arrive today. Ceremony tomorrow mid-morning at eclipse."

"Would it be easier to rescue the children as they're being moved?"

The large shaggy head shook negatively. "Flying."

A grimace of distaste crossed his face. "Great."

Edward patted his shoulder, nearly sending him to the ground. "You do fine. Much power." The Troll lengthened his stride leaving Hansel to puzzle out the cryptic statement.

"What's wrong?" Gretel nudged his shoulder, bringing him out of his thoughts. He saw that she still held the ragdoll, absently rubbing the cloth between her fingers.

He smiled gently. "Nothing much. Edward says the ceremony will be up in the mountains. The children will be flown to the site." He paused. "There will be a full coven."

He felt more than saw the convulsive shudder that ran through his sister. "Shit."

"Yup."

Alone, witches were dangerous, quick, and deadly. Even tag-teaming a witch like they did didn't guarantee a quick success. Witches tended to be loners, as none enjoyed sharing power; however, on very rare occasions, they'd gather to collaborate. When they did, things tended to go pear-shaped very quickly for the siblings.

They'd only come across a full coven twice in their careers. The first coven nearly succeeded in killing them before the siblings managed to take them out with trickery and a lot of luck. It became a hollow victory since the witches managed to destroy the very village that had hired them to begin with.

The second coven had not been any easier, but they had whittled them down to half before the witches caught on. Gretel had played bait and lured the witches away from town to where Hansel set up an ambush. Only their shared immunity to the spells and curses cast at them had saved them from instant death. That immunity didn't cover having charmed items flung at them, however. In the end, the small valley of lush grass and sparkling ponds became a giant crater in the earth and necessitated a long break while Gretel relearned how to walk due to a back injury.

Arriving back at town, it somehow didn't surprise Hansel at all when they found Ben "standing guard" over their supplies. The younger man jumped up to greet them as they entered the guest cottage provided by the Mayor. "Oh, geez. I'm so glad to see you guys. You might want to avoid Sheriff Berringer for a while." He leaned in as if confiding a secret. "He's kind of ticked at you both and blaming you for the witches' attack the other night."

Hansel snorted quietly, not that the Sheriff was going to be a problem anymore.

"Anyone listening to him?" Gretel smoothly asked. She gave Hansel an exasperated tap on the shoulder as he stepped past her and through the door.

"Not too many. Just those that weren't particularly happy that the Mayor hired you from the beginning."

"What else have you heard?"

Hansel rolled his eyes as Ben's face practically glowed at the attention, letting the minor frown Gretel shot his way bounce off. The hunter moved further into the room heading toward the packs that carried their weapons, gesturing to the empty table. "Enough space for what you need to do?"

Mina nodded. She shot a nervous glance at Ben, obviously concerned as to what the young man may think, but then philosophically shrugged. Hansel grinned at her, and she relaxed somewhat as she put what she needed out on the table.

Ben gazed in curiosity as Mina opened the large book and separated out the ingredients to create the potion. "The Mayor just reminded everyone that the witches had plagued them long before you two showed up to help." He blinked, eyes a bit wide. "Um... what are you doing?"

Mina froze like a deer. Hansel could feel her panic start to overwhelm her. He stared at the younger man evenly. "Giving us an edge in the upcoming fight. Got a problem with that?"

Ben startled. "No. No. No problem at all. I just … well, that is..."

Gretel apparently took pity on him. "Seems there's light witches in the world, too."

"Oh. That's … that's good." Ben looked confused and somewhat unsettled.

"Don't worry about it, Ben." She patted his shoulder, breaking his stare. "It came as a bit of a shock to us, as well."

Ben blinked, then smiled, giving a chagrined nod at Mina who finally relaxed. "Oh. Okay, then."

Hansel snorted. Apparently, witchcraft was alright if Gretel thought so.

When Gretel glanced over, Hansel rolled his eyes again and smirked at her, fully planning on teasing her about this later. Gretel made a face and smacked him on the arm as she headed back out to saddle the horses, but didn't say anything when Ben followed her like a puppy.

Twenty five minutes later, the potion completed, Hansel walked with Mina out into the small courtyard.

"Now what?" Ben asked.

"Now, we need some weapons to bless," Mina said.

Hansel uncovered the weapons he'd placed in the cart. "We can start with these."

Ben's eyes bulged at the assortment. "Whoo boy!"

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Mina splashed the contents of the bottle over the weapons. To her sight, the items touched by her potion gave off a faint glow. She hoped there was enough power within them to overcome a witch's spell.

"Will this work?" Ben sounded skeptical.

"God, I hope so," Gretel prayed. Hansel nodded in fervent agreement.

Mina stared, dumfounded as the glow from the potion intensified to nigh on blinding. She blinked hard, noting that the extra power flowed from the side of the card where the siblings stood; Hansel, with his arms crossed, one shoulder pressed along the side; Gretel, with her forearms along the railing, fingers dangling just above the weapons. Mina had never seen anything like it in her life, though a half-remembered story tugged at her memory.

Before she could bring it to the surface, they were off, the weapons securely stored in saddlebags and across shoulders. The four mounted and rode out of the village as quickly as they could safely press the horses.

Now it was a race against time. They had to get to their destination and into place before the ritual could begin, but if they were discovered too soon, it would prove disastrous.

Traps got set. Wire strung from trees to catch a flying witch off-guard. Nightfall caught them several hours' distance from the mountains.

They kept a cold camp, huddling together beneath fallen logs for warmth and concealment. They no longer needed Edward to point the way as the rush of wind and raucous cackling of arriving witches pinpointed their location. The sobbing of terrified children broke Mina's heart.

By the light of the moon, Mina leafed through the grimoire, marveling at the complexity, hoping to find any spells she had enough power to cast that could help them. Upon the inside cover, she discovered the white witch's name penned within. "Adriana," she murmured. "Her name was Adriana."

Ben shifted uneasily. Mina knew that he felt uncomfortable, his nervousness growing the longer she studied the book. She chose to ignore him, knowing nothing she could do or say would help him come to any decision.

"There had not been any proof," Ben's voice was subdued, his eyes cast downward. He gestured toward the book. "Just rumors. But, fifteen years ago, the townsfolk burned her anyway."

"And her husband?" Gretel asked, voice tight and somewhat ragged. Hansel reached out and clasped Gretel's arm, giving it a gentle squeeze. She gave a wan smile in return.

Ben's gaze turned inward as he tried to remember anything written about the situation. "He … he came back from the woods and tried to free her from the stake. They knocked him out and hung him from a corner of the house. After … the bodies were buried near the barn." The young man wrapped his arms around himself, shivering. "No one goes there anymore. It's said to be cursed."

Hansel said not a word, just stared out into the darkness, keeping an eye out for trouble, jaw clenched and muscles tight. Mina could practically feel his anger and disquiet over the conversation. Gretel placed a hand on her brother's arm, and the tension lessened a bit. The two shared a glance, eyes dark and light passing a multitude of emotions and messages that Mina couldn't ever begin to decipher.

"How does a witch get her power?" Ben leaned forward, curiosity overcoming wariness.

"They're born with the ability. Like any ability, it has to be trained to be of any real use. The gift is usually passed from mother to daughter; though, on occasion, it can skip a generation or two. Sometimes, if the potential is found and the mother is not able to train, another will pass down their knowledge to keep the traditions alive."

"You said mother to daughter. Is it only girls?"

Mina shrugged. "I've never heard of a male witch, even though there have been male children born to witches."

"Rare," Edward rumbled. "Eldest of twins."

Mina thought she heard a sharp intake of breath, but a peal of gleeful cackling echoing from above caused the five to quietly search the sky for long moments before relaxing a bit.

Ben continued the conversation, "What about dark witches?"

"Magic is … magic," Mina shrugged her shoulders. "A force like any other, it is neither good nor bad. But how you use it ..." She struggled for an analogy. "It's like an axe. I can use it to chop firewood, or I can use it to cut your hand off. It's not the axe that's evil. It's just a tool. It's the intent of the one wielding it that makes the outcome good or bad."

"So, based on that, you're saying that a dark witch started off light but falls into the temptation to chop people up instead of firewood?" Gretel questioned, one brow raised.

Mina nodded.

"But..." Ben visibly wrestled with the issue. "Why go dark?"

"'Cause it's easier, kid." Hansel's gruff voice startled them all. "More power for less effort. Leave your morals behind. Do as you please when you please." He cocked his head, studying the younger man. "Most probably started by getting back at someone who'd hurt them. Then they got a taste for it."

"Isn't that how you two started?" Ben blurted, his face blanching in horror as the words tumbling from his mouth registered.

"I get satisfaction on a job well done, knowing they won't hurt others. But I don't like doing it." Hansel rose to his feet, his form a large shadow against the moon. "Day I come to enjoying it is the day I hope Gretel puts a bullet in my brain." He stalked out of the camp, shoulders tight in anger.

"Hansel?" Gretel called.

Hansel paused, making a small gesture with one hand, then continued on. Edward heaved himself to his feet and followed the witch hunter, amber eyes watchful and compassionate.

"I … I didn't mean..." Ben stammered. "I wasn't trying to imply..."

"My brother and I didn't start out hunting witches, Ben. In fact, we'd have been quite happy to never see or hear of a witch again for as long as we lived after we escaped the Gingerbread Witch." She rose to her feet, her face carefully blank. "That wasn't in the stars for us. We were captured two more times before we chose to go on the offensive and actively hunt them down first." Turning soundlessly on her heel, she moved to follow her brother.

Mina put her hand on Ben's shoulder, comforting the boy.

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Although angry, Gretel knew her brother would not have gone far, his concern over the safety of the others would ensure he kept close.

She spotted Edward leaning against a nearby tree keeping an eye on her brother. She smiled wanly at the Troll and stepped past him to where Hansel stood with hands clenched at his sides, taking deep, calming breaths.

Gretel quickly caught up to Hansel and, without a word, wrapped her arms around him comfortingly. She propped her chin on his shoulder, speaking quietly into his ear. "He didn't mean anything by it." She winced at the scornful look he shot her. "Okay. So, he kinda meant it. He's young and let his mouth run away from him." She tightened her embrace. "He didn't mean any harm."

Hansel heaved a sigh, putting his hands over her own and giving a squeeze. "What are we going to do?" his voice so low she nearly missed the question.

She echoed his sigh. "I don't know."

He tilted his head, resting his temple on hers. "We won't be able to ignore it, you know. Someone's going to find out, and it'll bite us on the ass sooner or later." He gave a disdainful sound. "I'm surprised it hasn't, yet."

She nodded, rubbing her cheek against his. "I know. It'll have to wait, though. Right now we've got to find a way to rescue those kids and stop the coven." She chuckled darkly. "We might not even have to worry about it." She grinned at his quiet huff of laughter.

For a moment longer, the twins stood quietly, just breathing and gathering strength from one another. They couldn't know what the future held, but as long as they stood together, they'd make it through anything.

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In the woods near the base of the mountain, Hansel turned to Ben, handing him the long rifle. "You're our last line of defense. When we get started, the witches may try to scatter. Find a good hiding spot and shoot anything that moves. We don't want them attacking the town in retaliation. You got it?"

Ben nodded seriously, taking the rifle with steady hands. "Got it. I won't let any get past me."

Hansel clasped his shoulder, the closest he could come to show he held no grudge. "Good man." He turned to the others. "Let's go."

Halfway up the trail, Gretel and Edward peeled off so that the hunters could bracket the witches between the two groups. Continuing upwards, Hansel found a tiny alcove that looked down on the scene. Below, the children stood in a huddle off to one side of the plateau, guarded by three witches. Setting up the tripod for the Gatling gun, he gave a quick crash course on how it worked. "It's an easy weapon. Just aim and pull the trigger. You'll do fine." He smiled at her, getting a weak grin in reply. "I'm going to work my way around to the other side. Gretel will be about mid-way while Edward is going to free the children."

She nodded, face determined. "Good luck."

He returned the nod, then headed down. His expression darkened as he did a mental head count. 'Damn it. There's gotta be at least two full covens here.' Things were going to get ugly.

As if to mock him, his eyes were drawn to a commotion in the direction his sister was supposed to arrive. He felt his stomach sink as the Grand High Witch sauntered toward the cluster of people. "Welcome, Gretel. You're just in time." Muriel's voice rose over the pleased murmurs of the gathered witches.

Hansel held himself still as Gretel was dragged into the center of the assembly. Stripped of her weapons, hair in disarray, a smear of blood along the corner of her mouth and beside her left eye, she still held her head high, her eyes black and fierce, not allowing herself to be intimidated.

"Where is your delightful brother, my dear?" Muriel asked with a sickening sweet tone.

Gretel stared coldly at the witch, refusing to answer. Hansel used the time to work his way closer.

Muriel laughed, "No matter. We'll find him later. He'll be such a fun toy, too." She leered at Gretel, her intention clear. She turned to address the covens. "As I promised, dear sisters. The final ingredient is here. The heart of a Great White Witch!""

The crowd roared in approval while Gretel closed her eyes, face pale. Hansel gritted his teeth and climbed over a pile of rubble.

"Soon, we will no longer fear the flames. No sister will suffer being burned at the stake ever again!"

Another cheer went up and the witches began arranging the cauldron and lining the children up in preparation for the eclipse to begin.

They chained Gretel to a post, the rust colored stains upon the ground mute testimony as to its usual purpose. Hansel crept closer, knowing he'd need to free Gretel as soon as possible if they were to have any chance at all.

He clutched his rifle tight, stilling as Muriel stepped closer to his sister. She brushed a strand of hair out of Gretel's eyes in a mocking caress. "Poor little Gretel. Shall I tell you a story? Once there was a Grand White Witch named Adriana who fell in love and married a mortal farmer and had two lovely children. They were so happy." A small smirk crossed the creature's perfect looking lips. "Though, not for long. A Blood Moon occurs only once a generation. During that time, a special potion can be made that can make a witch immune to fire. However, it requires the heart of a Grand Wight Witch. Adriana was too powerful for us." She cocked her head. "But you weren't. So, I spread a few choice rumors around the town and riled up the townsfolk against Adriana in order to make you vulnerable." She scowled, lips pursed. "But she found out and had your father send you away." An overly bright smile shone. "Your father was caught on his return trying to rescue his love. They hung him beside her pyre. How does it feel to know they died trying to save you? It's all so very touching, don't you think? And in the end, completely ineffectual."

The sky began to darken and Muriel looked up, a look of rapture upon her face as the eclipse commenced. "It's time!"

Hansel stepped boldly out into their midst, barely suppressed violence rolled off him in waves. For a moment, no one noticed him. Then the witches grew quiet and stared at him in shock for his audacity. His voice echoed off the rocks, "Let my sister and the children go right this moment, and I might let you live. Hesitate and it would be my great pleasure to kill each and every one of you."

A beat of silence, then Muriel laughed derisively, her features transforming into the bone white face and cracked black lips of her natural state. She jerked her head toward one of the coven members. "Kill him."

The Redhead Witch that had dragged him halfway through the woods on her broom stepped forward, a nasty grin on her face, her wand in hand. "I knew you interested me for a reason." She stepped forward, smirking harder when he held his ground. With a leer, she raked her gaze up and down his form. "Oh, it's too bad you have to die. I definitely could have had use for you." The other witches sniggered at the suggestion. The witch sauntered forward, her posture negligent as she raised her wand.

Hansel aimed his weapon at her, took a breath, whispered, "God, please work," and pulled the trigger.

The Redhead Witch had only an instant to show her shock and surprise before his bullet splattered her brains out and over the ones standing behind her.

For a heartbeat everyone froze. Then the coven collectively gathered themselves in preparation to attack. At that moment, Mina opened fire from above, instantly shredding a knot of three with the Gatling gun, sending everything into panic and chaos as the witches scattered, screaming.

Hansel shot at Muriel a few times, forcing the witch away from his sister. He moved up to the pole, eying the lock on the manacles. "I don't recollect this being part of the plan," he snarked.

Gretel rolled her eyes, holding up her arms. "Not like I planned on it. Can we get going?"

He shot the chain off and handed Gretel a weapon, glad the other witches were occupied with dodging Mina's aim. The two broke away from one another to re-enter the fray; Hansel taking out one with his pistol while Gretel climbed a boulder for some height and killed two with her crossbow.

Muriel shrieked in fury and shouted orders to rein in the coven.

The next few minutes were a cacophony of motion and noise. Though spells didn't work on him or his sister, it didn't stop enchanted weapons like rocks and tree branches from slamming into them once the witches figured things out.

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Edward freed the children and urged them toward the pathway that would lead them down from the plateau. The Troll blocked the witches' access to them; gaining the children's instant trust, despite his fearsome appearance. The older children helping the younger, the group shied away from grasping hands and ducked away, scrambling down the path as quickly as possible.

Four witches converged upon Edward, trying to get past the Troll. Edward grabbed one witch by the shoulder and heaved, sending her flying off the edge of the mountain. Thankfully, witches don't fly very well without their brooms.

Edward pulled off the head of another witch, not reacting as the snake-like hair bit him. A punch to the chest tore the heart out of a third witch sporting leopard spots. He turned to confront the Horned Witch, only to get blindsided. A pair of Siamese Witches, attached to one another by a segment of skin along their backs, rushed the Troll, sending a double beam of light from their wands. The spells hit Edward dead in the chest and with a bellow he slipped over the edge himself.

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Mina kept firing steadily, managing to kill four more before the gun jammed on her. She abandoned the weapon and grabbed up the crossbow Hansel had left her. She had decent aim and managed to pick off three more witches within a few minutes. The blessing on the weapons defeated the ability a witch had of causing a projectile to go awry.

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Gretel had fallen onto her back, Muriel straddling her, a bone knife in her hand as the eclipse came to an end.

"Time's up!" Gretel brought her legs up and kicked out sharply, catching the witch in the chest and sending her stumbling several feet back. Gretel rolled to her feet, grabbing her crossbow with the movement and had it cocked and ready in an instant.

With a sneer, Muriel raced to the rocks, grabbed her broom and took off, followed by two others.

Gretel cursed, firing upon the witches, only to have the bolts fall short as the creatures quickly moved out of range.

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Hansel sent a bullet into the Horned Witch's head, ending her threat before she could head down the path the children had taken.

Having taken care of the Troll, the Siamese Witches sheathed their wands and drew blades before advancing upon Hansel. The witch hunter ducked and weaved as the sisters attacked him, swinging their swords in a synchronized mesh of steel. He backed up, managing to bring his weapon to bear and shoot. The bullet caught the sisters along the top of their merging, their shrieks pierced his ears and muffled the sickening sound of flesh tearing. Blood flowed and bone glinted, but the sisters advanced upon him despite what had to be agonizing pain.

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Mina shot once more, skewering the Legless Witch through the torso and pinning her to the ground like a bug. Stomach churning, Mina swallowed heavily, feeling her gorge rise. Lips pressed tightly together, she narrowed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Survive now. Fall apart later." Out of arrows, she picked up a long knife for protection and climbed down from her perch to hopefully catch up with the children and lead them to safety.

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Hansel hissed as the left hand witch scored a hit along his side; his jacket absorbed most of the blow, but there would be a wicked bruise later on. He used his rifle to block the flurry of strikes.

The two witches worked in concert, but Hansel noticed that the right hand witch tended to droop one shoulder. He took a step to exploit the weakness, making her overextend her reach in order to hit him; ignoring for a moment how his right heel hung over empty air.

She slashed at his eyes, and he ducked downward and pulled the trigger, the bullet tearing through her throat with a spray of blood.

Her sister shrieked in agony as the dead weight pulled her to the ground.

Shifting his aim, he put her out her misery with a bullet between the eyes.

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Gretel strode forward, crossbow at the ready. From either side rushed a witch, claws extended to rend her to pieces. A simple flick of a trigger instantly reconfigured the bow which would allow her to shoot two arrows at ninety degree angles. She waited a beat until they lined up properly and caught both witches high in the chest.

She swept her gaze across the area, meeting her brother's eyes. He gave a nod and stepped around the body at his feet to meet her near the center of the plateau.

"Mina?" she asked.

"Went after the children." He cocked a brow at her. "Edward?"

She frowned, eyes concerned. "He went over the edge. Muriel and two others flew off."

He grasped her shoulder. "Go check on Edward."

"You sure?"

"I'm sure. Catch up when you can."

She nodded, and the two broke into a run, heading down the path, breaking away from each other about midway.

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Hansel moved quickly through the woods, all senses alert. He reloaded on the run, the motions familiar and automatic from years of practice. A grim smile crossed his face as he spotted gobbets of flesh hanging from a set of wires they'd strung between the trees. At least one witch had flown headlong into the trap. A few steps later, he found two broom brushes, and he nodded in satisfaction. That meant only one witch remained. He had a feeling it was Muriel – the Grand High Witch too smart and powerful to be taken out so easily.

The sharp retort of a rifle sounded toward the south. Hansel picked up his pace praying Ben had kept his head and wasn't firing at shadows.

"I got one!' the jubilant shout caused a feral smile to cross the hunter's lips.

The teen pointed to the south with a hand that trembled with excitement and adrenaline. "Winged her as she went past, and she tumbled ass over teakettle in that direction."

"Good man. Keep close," Hansel ordered. "Did you see Mina?"

"She was leading the children back to the village." Ben huffed, trying to keep up with Hansel's long stride. "Where's Gretel?"

"Checking on Edward. He fell over the side. They'll catch up when they can."

Ben didn't respond, but his fingers clutched tighter around the rifle.

Ten minutes later, they came across a dilapidated cottage and Hansel slowed, staring incredulously.

Ben gave a whistle, "What in the world?" He stood at the witch hunter's shoulder, eyes nearly popped from their sockets.

The Gingerbread walls of the cottage had gone green with mold. The fancy icing trim drooped with age and weather. The translucent sugar windows had mostly melted within their panes. The sickening sweet scent of sugar hung cloyingly in the air. Hansel pressed his lips together, his stomach churning in rage and old remembered fear and illness. "Whatever you do, don't eat the fucking candy."

The two men cautiously approached the house. Hansel could see the blood trail leading to the clearing. Witches, when wounded, became feral in their pain and rage. Muriel would be even more dangerous than most considering her power level and obvious intelligence. Hansel felt cold sweat trickle down his spine, and he could see the blood drain from Ben's face the closer they got, the air oppressive.

Muriel struck without warning, rounding the corner of the building, with her wand out. A streak of light raced toward them both. Hansel shoved Ben out of the way, sending him to sprawl on the ground. The beam of light caught his right shoulder and passed harmlessly through only to render the tree behind him into splinters.

Hansel's eyes widened in horror as Muriel cackled and focused on Ben's prone form.

"Run!" Hansel shot at the witch, disrupting her aim while she dived out of the way of the bullets. He caught her arm, and she dropped her wand.

Ben scrambled to his feet and raced toward a boulder, hoping to hide behind it.

Muriel appeared before the young man in a flash of speed. She grasped him by the throat and spun him around, pulling him to her to use as a shield, her claws dimpled the skin, and Ben gasped as a trickle of blood slid down his collar.

"Lower your weapon, witch hunter. Or I'll tear out his throat."

"You'll do it anyway, so why should I?" Hansel ignored the betrayed look in Ben's eyes, staying focused on Muriel.

The witch laughed, an unpleasant rasp. "Are you truly so callous that you'd risk this boy's life?"

Hansel barked a harsh laugh of his own, enjoying the startled look he got. "I hunt witches for a living. Doesn't that answer your question?" He tilted his head, face an expressionless mask, while his mind whirled for a way to free Ben. "You're going to die one way or another. If you let the boy go, I'll make it quick. Otherwise..." he trailed off, allowing a wicked grin to cross his face. "Well, hunting witches over the years, I've seen and learned quite a lot about what a body can and cannot handle. It'll be interesting to put some of it to practice."

Muriel blinked. "You're insane."

A feral smile marked his next comment, "As I said: I hunt witches for a living. What's sane about that?"

The cold response did the job as Muriel's grip loosened in her shock. Ben took the opportunity given; he stomped harshly on the witch's instep, shoving her hand away as he ducked beneath her arm and dashed to safety.

Hansel stepped between the two and emptied the rifle, catching Muriel at least once in the side before she ran into the Gingerbread house.

"Ben? Are you okay?"

"Am I...? You...! She nearly...! And you were gonna...!" The incoherent phrases stuttered out and Hansel felt a brief pang of guilt at the lost quality in the teen's tone.

"Ben!" he snapped, hating himself just a bit as he kept his gaze on the cottage. "Are. You. Injured?"

Ben took a shuddering breath. "No. No, I'm good."

"Good. Stay put. Wait for Gretel. Keep an eye out, but don't come in. It'll be close quarters, and I don't want you hurt. Understand?"

"I … uh ... yeah."

Hansel spared a look at the younger man, seeing the confusion fade, replaced with comprehension and gratitude.

Ben nodded. "Good luck."

Hansel nodded in return and headed toward the cottage door.

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Gretel found Edward lying in an awkward heap half-way down the side of the mountain where a shallow ledge had arrested the Troll's fall. She glanced over and gave a shudder, the small copse of half-dead trees below would have skewered him had he fallen into them.

She leaned over him, putting a hand to his neck. She couldn't feel a pulse. His skin felt warm, though, so his heart had not been stopped for long.

In her haste, she dumped her bag onto the ground and snatched up the lightning generator. A jolt through his chest could get his heart beating again. She prayed this worked having only seen it be successful once in the past.

Winding the crank, she let the static build up. As the electric whine hit a higher pitch, she touched the prongs to Edward's chest.

The massive body jerked as electricity raced through it, then lay still.

She put her ear to his chest. Nothing.

Again, she cranked the engine and again touched Edward's torso.

Still nothing.

Choking down a sob, she cranked once more. "Third time's a charm, right? Don't you give up on me, Edward."

Energy coursed through the Troll's limbs, and Edward sat upright with a roar of agony.

Gretel beamed as Edward's eyes focused on her own. "Oh, thank Heaven." She leaned against his chest in relief, glad to repay part of the debt she owed this creature who had saved her brother's life and had fought beside them without asking for anything in return.

Edward clumsily patted her back, and she choked a laugh at the image they probably made. She gave him a minute to catch his breath, studying him critically. Other than some scrapes and bruises from the landing, he appeared fine. She sat back on her haunches, absently repacking her things. "Think you can stand?"

Edward tested his limbs and nodded. With a groan, he heaved himself to his full height and shook himself like a dog ridding itself of water. A spark or two flashed from his fingers as excess energy escaped.

He raised a brow questioningly.

"We saved the children, but Muriel escaped. My brother went after her."

Edward rumbled in approval. "Go after him?"

"We'll need to move fast," she warned.

He patted her shoulder and gave a toothy grin, gesturing down the path.

The two raced through the woods, Edward quickly picking up a blood scent. "Not boy's or brother's." He sniffed again, nose wrinkling in distaste. "Witch."

They arrived at the clearing and, like her brother before her, Gretel blinked incredulously at the sight of the Gingerbread cottage. "Oh, you've gotta be fucking kidding me."

Ben stepped out from behind a nearby tree, his weapon pointed at the ground. "Gretel! Hansel's inside with the witch."

She poured on more speed. "How long?"

"Just a few minutes."

Nearing, she could hear the sounds of a struggle. She rushed in, dodging to the side in time to miss being impaled by a fire poker. Gretel grabbed it on her way in, glad for a weapon that would work well in close quarters.

Hansel slammed into the wall nearby with a grunt, collapsing to one knee. Darting forward, Gretel grasped his shoulder to help him stand. He flashed her a grateful smile. "Took you long enough."

She shot back a grin, "Figured you'd be done by now." Her exhaustion fell from her and even Hansel's posture straightened. Both siblings stood shoulder to shoulder to face the witch as they caught their second wind.

Muriel, her face a mass of blood and lacerations, stared at them with wide electric blue eyes. "Not possible," she muttered. "Just not poss..." her eyes narrowed. "Twins. I should have known. There was no way that your survival could be attributed solely to Adriana's spell. You're a damned battery. How'd I miss such power?" Her mutters made the hair on the back of their necks stand on end. In an instant, any sanity fled. "Mine! It must be mine!" she howled as she hurled herself at the twins, her movement erratic.

The supposed flailing served its purpose in separating the siblings. Gretel stumbled over debris, falling to the floor, the air leaving her lungs in a rush. Hansel struck his forehead on a counter, blood pouring down his face and obscuring his vision.

Muriel cackled, moving closer to Hansel, only to lose her own breath as a heavy boot connected with her chest, sending her careening heavily into the old, spindle-legged table. It splintered beneath her weight, wood shards piercing her side and forearms. One came up through her shoulder, keeping her pinned momentarily.

That one moment was all they needed. Gretel threw the fireplace poker with all her might, lodging the point in the witch's abdomen. Muriel doubled over, keening, the sound like fingers on a chalkboard. "Shut up!" Gretel clutched at her ears.

Hansel used the distraction to grab the stove shovel. He straddled the witch and jabbed the shovel beneath Muriel's chin, cutting off her breath as well as her keening. His dizziness and her struggles made it difficult to hold the shovel upright. "Gretel!"

Gretel stood behind him, her hands on his shoulders to steady them both, and stomped hard against the flat edge of the shovel, sending the metal deep into Muriel's neck.

Muriel's struggling became more frantic, her body bucking and heaving in her attempt to dislodge the siblings. The length of the shovel's handle effectively kept her from clawing at Hansel. Grim faced, Hansel kept the shovel in place while Gretel kicked two more times severing the head from the body.

The body twitched and shuddered for one long moment. Finally, it lay still.

The siblings staggered away from the witch to slump in the middle of the room leaning against each other in exhaustion. No words passed between them, but they exchanged a flood of information with each shift of a limb or twitch of an eyebrow.

Now they knew the truth. Their parents hadn't meant to abandon them; they'd been sent away for their own protection, but death had kept their parents from retrieving them.

Their mother had been a Grand White Witch.

Gretel, by virtue of having that power, was also a Grand White Witch.

As for Hansel...

"Research?" He gave a wry twist of the lips.

"Research," Gretel agreed. "Very careful and quiet research."

Muriel's reaction to the discovery had proved they'd need to be very careful that no one else found out.

"Edward knows," Hansel reminded.

"Hopefully, we can convince him not to tell anyone else," she chewed her lip. "Do you think Mina knows?"

Hansel furrowed his brow. "I don't know. We might want to tell her, though." At her glance, he shrugged. "At least she can help us maybe find a way to conceal it better." He mirrored her, chewing his own lip in thought. "Her healing spells could definitely come in handy."

"Well, we can ask." She levered herself up onto her feet and offered him her hand. "Come on, brother-mine. We need to finish this."


	4. Chapter 4

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part4

888

Mina checked each child once more before sagging in the window seat of the temporary clinic. The children had seemed fine at first. Most sported a few bruises and scrapes from being kidnapped and trying to escape their prisons. Some of the earlier ones taken had signs of malnutrition and dehydration. However, as time passed, each child fell into a reverie from which they would not wake. Looking at their auras, Mina saw that the witches had cursed the children as malicious insurance; even if the sacrifice was interrupted, the children would still die.

Despite the risk of discovery, Mina immediately brewed a potion to hopefully break the spell. She used the same one she'd given Hansel, only to discover that the curse proved too powerful for her to break on her own.

She stared past her reflection in the glass, tears of exhaustion and desperate sorrow coursing down her face. She couldn't save the children.

Taggert, the village doctor, placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "We do our best and pray it's enough. That is all that anyone can ask of us." A sad smile creased his lined face. "Try and get some rest, Mina. The next few days will be a trial." The old man gave a gentle squeeze and headed toward his own cot.

The light witch regarded the night with trepidation. Her worry over the children combined with her concern over the others. Dawn would soon arrive, and though there had been no sign of angry witches bent on retribution on the village, neither had any word arrived of whether the hunters survived or not.

She ached from head to foot from the day's activities and magical expenditure, but knew sleep would continue to elude her.

She leaned her temple against the glass, letting welcomed coolness soothe her growing headache.

The quiet crunch of boots on gravel a few minutes later had her swinging her head to peer down the lane. A shaky sigh of relief escaped her as she spied three figures shuffling wearily into town. Quietly, she let herself out of the schoolhouse to meet them on the road. "Hansel. Gretel. Ben. Is anyone hurt?"

"We're good," Gretel stated, despite the bruising Mia could see even in the dim light. "We had to gather and burn the bodies. Then we found the lair they were using and took care of it, as well."

Ben looked green, but gamely added, "We won't have to worry about any evil witches using that spot ever again."

Hansel's gaze bore into her, and she found herself averting her eyes. "The children?" he asked quietly.

The other two tensed as she felt the tears begin to flow again as the hopeless situation came rushing to the forefront. "They're dying. They're under a curse, but I can't..." she trailed off into hiccoughing sobs.

Gretel grasped her by the elbow and gently steered her to the back of the schoolhouse and out of casual view. "The potion you used on Hansel?" Her voice pitched low to keep any of the parents hovering over their children who lay on borrowed cots and makeshift pallets a few feet away from overhearing

Mina shook her head in misery. "I don't have enough power to break it. It was cast by multiple witches. The best I can do is halt the curse's progress, and that's only a temporary measure." She wiped at her cheeks with the backs of her wrists, dashing away the tears. She gestured toward the window. "For now, they're in a twilight state. Not really awake, but not truly unconscious. The potion will wear off in about a day and then..." She heaved a breath, her stomach churning in worry and guilt. "With what I know and the power I have, I can save maybe four out of the twelve, but it would mean keeping them in that half state."

"What would you need to break the spell?" Ben asked, his eyes anxious and full of concern as his gaze flitted from one small face to another, their pale countenances highlighted by candle glow.

"Either three more light witches or a sudden boost in power." She couldn't help the bitter tone, she might as well wish for the moon while she was at it.

The siblings exchanged a long look and the hair on the back of her neck prickled. "We'll see what we can come up with."

Hansel handed her a heavy leather bag. "We scavenged what we safely could from the witches' lair. They're might be something in there that you can use." He reached into his coat and pulled out a familiar wrapped bundle, reverently handing it to her. "Here's Adriana's spell book. Do you have a safe place where you can go over them?"

"The clinic's only two houses down. Either myself or Dr. Taggert stays with the children while the other gathers medicines and anything else we think might help."

"We need to speak with the mayor, but we'll meet you at the clinic when we're finished," Gretel interjected. Again, the two exchanged a long look, and Mina got the distinct impression that the siblings were communicating with one another without words.

The siblings strode off, but Ben stayed behind with a watery smile upon his lips. "What can I do to help?"

8

Mina turned as the door to the clinic opened, ready to hide the evidence of witchcraft should her visitor prove to be one of the parents desperately hoping for a cure and sure that 'persuading' her would save their child. So far it had only been the mothers; begging, crying, shrieking, and on one occasion attacking with her nails. It wouldn't take long before the fathers began to show up; pushed to it by their wives and their own desperation. She didn't fancy her chances at that point.

A sigh escaped as Gretel slid over, followed closely by Hansel who secured the door and made sure all the shades were pulled.

"Do you need a specific amount of power for the potion? Do you need to be precise, or do you just need a lot of power?" Gretel's abrupt questions set her back.

Mina looked curiously at the two siblings, noting the tension. "Some spells need precision, but with this one, we just need to overpower the original curse. So, really, the more the better." She turned to fully face them, anxious. "What do you have in mind?"

Hansel shot Gretel a look, getting a tiny nod in encouragement. Moving closer, he placed a hand on Mina's shoulder. Mina blinked at him, confused, but then she felt her exhaustion falling away and her energy returning to her. Her mouth fell open in shock. "But … how ..."

"We're twins. Hansel's older. Adriana was our mother."

Gretel's clipped response, along with Edward's comment the night before, had everything click into place for Mina: why Hansel had not succumbed to the sugar sickness curse long ago; why both siblings could fight for so long before exhaustion caught up to them; why the blessing on the weapons had become so potent. "You're a battery of magical energy." She couldn't keep the awe from her voice. "I'd heard stories ..." she shook her head. "It's been over five generations since the last known male twin. They didn't live for long; evil witches would use them until they died when they were discovered."

She was caught by Hansel's steely gaze, "I'd like to keep that from happening."

She nodded slowly, recognizing the dangers such knowledge could cause, and felt some of the tension leave the room.

"What do we need to do?" Gretel asked. "I'd like to get this done and leave town before something else happens."

"If you'd be willing to help?" Mina glanced at Gretel who nodded sharply. "All you have to do is follow the directions." She gestured for them to join her at the work table.

As the two women put the potion together, Hansel kept a hand on their shoulders.

888

Mina crept into the schoolhouse, closing the door silently behind her.

To her relief, Taggert had convinced the adults to go home to rest. He never liked all the hovering and wailing that could occur and claimed it was detrimental to the patient's health and recovery.

Stepping lightly to the first cot, she drew out a vial from her apron pocket. Kneeling beside the bed, she pulled the cork and tilted the child's head. With a prayer, she poured the potion down the boy's throat, lightly massaging his neck to encourage swallowing.

She brushed a lock of hair from the boy's forehead and focused, trying to see if the potion worked. A warm glow spread, and the dark swirls within the child's aura lightened and dissipated. She sank back on her heels, eyes prickling with tears. "Oh, thank Heaven," she whispered.

Wasting no time, she moved on to the next child, determined that each would receive the cure before she was discovered.

Fifteen minutes after entering the makeshift clinic, Mina completed her task and slipped out the door.

She nearly stumbled and fell as her foot came into contact with something on the front step. Heart beating wildly, she looked around. Had someone spotted her with the children? Then, why hadn't they confronted her?

By the light of the moon, she could see what lay upon the wooden porch. Mina blinked in surprise as she lifted up a familiar leather satchel. Taggert had teased her that when she was ready to strike out on her own as a full-fledged doctor that he would gift her with that very satchel. Within were a set of surgical instruments, packets of dried herbs, and two medical books from Taggert's personal library. A windfall and a blessing.

She raised her face, looking down the street toward the clinic. "Thank you, so much." She clutched the satchel to her side and headed down the street to were the others waited for her.

On the edge of hearing she heard, "God be with you, child."

888

888

The Desert Witch's lair gave the impression of a chimney and flue made of sand.

Five figures stood at the top of a nearby dune, contemplating the situation before one started giving orders.

"Edward, set camp next to those trees. If they're still alive, it means there's water nearby."

The Troll gave a grunt of agreement and pulled the cart over toward the scant shade.

"Mina, what did you need to complete that potion?"

The blonde held up a handful of sand, "Native soil. It'll take about twenty minutes to finish. Splash it on her, and it should keep her from using her sand powers to escape."

"Sounds good. Ben, I need you to check the mechanisms on the weapons. We don't want them to jam on us at a crucial moment."

"You got it, Hansel." The young man followed Edward.

The witch hunter looked over at his sister. "Gretel, you want to scout the north or the south side?"

"I'll take the south." She adjusted the strap of her crossbow and checked that her knives lay securely in their sheaths.

Hansel checked his own weapon, a feral smile upon his lips. "Alright. We should be back in twenty with an idea how to hit this witch hard."

Mina matched his grin, "Happy hunting."

The two siblings nodded and slid off across the sand, quickly disappearing from view.

End

started: 4/27/2013

finished: 6/15/2013

word count: 19,364

final edit and divisions: 5/3/2014

final word count: 20,486


End file.
